


The Secret She Hides

by grindellore (Kate_Marley)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathilda reminiscing about Albus and Gellert, M/M, Memories, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, and about the Summer of 1899, reflections about history and bias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 01:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18144626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Marley/pseuds/grindellore
Summary: When Bathilda Bagshot realises Rita Skeeter has dosed her with Veritaserum, she sees only one way to protect her most precious secret.





	The Secret She Hides

As a historian, Bathilda Bagshot knew intimately well how important it was to keep contexts and motifs of historical events in mind. She also knew that neutral historical sources and infallible eyewitness accounts didn’t exist: Everybody’s memories were shaped by their own perceptions of reality, sometimes even by outright personal bias. There were occasions when a look at Pensieved memories could bring some clarity, but only if a person’s bias stemmed from a first-hand experience, which was rare.

Bathilda knew there were people who might suspect her own writing of being biased. After all, she was the great-aunt of one of the most dangerous Dark wizards of the twentieth century whom she had always loved, despite all he had done.

Bathilda herself would have argued that her affection for Gellert had never stopped her for seeing his crimes as any less horrid as they were. It just stopped her from condemning him because of them. Her research had shown her that it was fairly common for Dark wizards not to be evil throughout; to have two faces, so to say—one for the world, one for the people they loved. You-Know-Who actually was an exception. Then again, he was also far less human, far less emotional than Gellert had ever been.

As it was, hardly anybody had realised—or told other wizards and witches they had realised, at the least—that Gellert and her were related. Perhaps that was the real proof her writing wasn’t biased.

Then again, perhaps there actually was a bias but one that was evened out by her affection for Albus; poor Albus who had recently died under such dire circumstances. Still, even if she was biased, it had to be nothing in comparison to the bias she found every time she read the writings of the person who was in her sitting room now.

Rita Skeeter had tricked her way inside Bathilda’s cottage pretending to write a historical biography on Albus’s life. As always with shallow people, Bathilda had pretended to be a somewhat senile beldam, but she had let her in. She hadn’t been able to think of a reason not to other than the fact that Rita had always been more interested in telling juicy stories than in factual accuracy.

Bathilda had only realised Rita had dosed her tea with Veritaserum after she had taken her first sip. Perhaps she was actually becoming a senile beldam.

However that might be, there was only one way out now. It was a way that saddened her.

“If you may excuse me,” Bathilda had said. “I need to use the bathroom.”

She could say that. It was the truth. And if she didn’t need to use it for one of the obvious reasons, how was Rita to find out? She seemed to have bought Bathilda’s semblance of senility. The fact Bathilda had failed to notice the Veritaserum in time certainly came into play there.

Now Bathilda was standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom, wand raised but hesitating to go through with the spell she knew to be necessary. The problem was that she didn’t want to give up on these particular memories. They were her secret; a secret that had always made her feel protective of her great-nephew and her former neighbour alike.

She had never even told Albus she knew. It was only Gellert to whom she had confessed during one of her first visits to Nurmengard after Albus had taken him down.

But of course she had known. In a way, she had set them up—two bright minds that had never met another person their own age who was as brilliant as them. Of course they had taken to each other instantly, and of course she hadn’t missed how their glances were sometimes lingering on one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

Then she had spotted them kissing behind her cottage and her assumption had become a certainty. She hadn’t seen any reason to interrupt them. They were careful enough to know when to cast protective enchantments, and when she had told Gellert so that day, she had actually assumed she would need to spend the whole afternoon at the Ministry archives.

True, she had worried a little when she had heard the ivy crack on the wall one night. Her first thought had been Muggle burglars, but then she had spotted Gellert climb into the window of his own room, using magic only to open it from the outside. At first she had assumed the boys had simply huddled together over some books and lost the time. She had reassessed that assumption the following morning when she had found Gellert at the breakfast table, dreamy-eyed, not hungry at all and with a smile that wouldn’t leave his face.

After that, Gellert would sometimes spend the night at the Dumbledores’ and Albus would sometimes stay over at her cottage. She never heard or saw anything suspicious, but she didn’t exactly look for evidence either. The one time she almost walked in on Gellert in Albus’s lap as they were reading the same book in her sitting room was harmless enough.

Once she had found Albus asleep with his face next to one of their books while Gellert was brushing strands of hair out of his face with a tender expression. The scene had been more telling, but still so innocent it made her heart clench when she remembered it now. The course of time could be so cruel, making enemies of these two loving boys who were to to fight each other in the end!

Bathilda looked into her bathroom mirror. Her wrinkled face was saddened but resolute.

Of course she couldn’t part with all her memories. For once, she needed to remember her annual visit to Nurmengard. She also needed to remember _some_ details because she was determined to try to console Gellert, if consolation was even possible for him after Albus’s death.

She raised her wand, almost touching it to her head.

“Obliviate,” she whispered.

Bathilda could only hope the memories she had selected were enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my headcanon why there doesn’t seem to be anything about Albus and Gellert’s romantic relationship in Rita Skeeter’s _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ even though I believe it’s unlikely Bathilda didn’t know they were lovers.
> 
> Did Bathilda live to visit Gellert one last time in Nurmengard? It’s up to you to decide. In any case, I’d like to write a story about how she visits him sometime during the First Wizarding War (or perhaps sometime before) and how they talk a little about Albus.


End file.
